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“Right. So who’s the Greek one?”
“Ares,” Caleb supplies.
“Ohmygod,” Jake gasps, sitting up and nearly spilling my coffee. “How freaking perfect is that? Mars is an Ares and his son is named Ares!”
“Nah, it’s two different spellings,” Caleb corrects, sipping his coffee. “Aries and Ares.”
“Yeah, but no one would know unless it’s written down,” Jake shrugs.
“That’s just confusing,” Cay replies.
Jake leans over me. “Hey Mars, who’s the god of war in Finnish mythology?”
“Iku-Turso,” he replies, not looking up. “Or sometimes he is called Tursas.”
Caleb holds back a cringe, glancing at me. “I mean, I know we’re not voting here, and there’s no veto option…but I would veto Iku-Turso.”
“Same,” I reply.
“I still think we were onto something with the whole gods thing,” Jake goes on. “We’ve already got a Mars and a Poseidon. What about Thor?”
“Thor is Norse,” Ilmari replies.
“Yeah, so?” Jake says with a shrug.
Ilmari stares at him. “I’m Finnish.”
“Well, then I’m out of ideas,” Jake says with a shrug.
“Thank god,” I reply with a teasing smile.
While Jake huffs at me, Ilmari shifts the baby off his shoulder, cradling him in one arm. He lifts his free hand, brushing a finger feather-light along his sleeping son’s brow. “Tuomas,” he says softly.
“What?” I say.
“His name is Tuomas,” Ilmari replies. “Tuomas Caleb Price.”
“Thomas?” Jake repeats.
“The Finnish way,” Ilmari corrects. “Tuomas.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say. “Why Tuomas?”
Ilmari shrugs, his eyes still on his baby. “I had no father figure in my young life. I had hockey and I had music. Tuomas Holopainen is the lead songwriter for Nightwish, one of my favorite bands. I listened to their music in the gym, on the road. I never had a father giving me confidence before a game. I had Tuomas Holopainen.”
“I love it,” Jake says. “Really, Mars. It’s perfect. Is Nightwish some of your heavy metal stuff?”
Ilmari nods.
Jake grins. “That is so rock n’ roll. Grandpa Hal is gonna flip. Our little Tuomas the rocker. And Glow Worm still makes a cool nickname,” he adds, kissing my brow.
“Why Caleb?” I say, glancing over to Cay. He’s still yet to say a word or make an outward reaction to our son’s new name.
Ilmari sighs and looks to Caleb. A long moment stretches between them where he doesn’t say anything. “Jake makes me happy,” he says at last. “Rachel makes me feel whole,” he adds. “But you make me feel safe.”
Caleb sucks in a breath, leaning away.
Tears sting my eyes as I watch them. Next to me, Jake is utterly still.
